


the moon scene ✵ graylu + gruvia ✓

by korolevax, redvelvet (korolevax)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Multi, it's complicated - Freeform, music inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korolevax/pseuds/korolevax, https://archiveofourown.org/users/korolevax/pseuds/redvelvet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>❝i called it the moon scene;<br/>it is a cruel dream<br/>at the end of my day, your gravity<br/>reaches such a long way.❞<br/>{ lyrics via phildel }</p><p>✵</p><p>in which love has two sides - the physical and the emotional - and these black and white colors find war in a gray zone.</p><p>a ten part short story by exy koroleva © [start] 04.06.16 ; 06.01.16 [end]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i. juvia

a graylu x gruvia short-story  
all excerpts in _[italics]_ are   
lyrics which are not   
my own, but are  
phildel's.  
(linked)

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  


To feel him beneath my fingertips; to have the warmth of him moving inside me on those nights we spent together; to have the warmth of bare skin against mind; Gray was my lust.   
  


I tried so hard to capture his attention. A fool of myself I've made countless times when making sure no other woman could rival my openness towards him. When all we shared was the physicality of our love, I wanted more; I wanted to feel him inside me--in a different way.   
  


I tried so hard to obtain his affection. I do not know what those dark eyes of his see me as; could he see me as too easy of an object, a trophy he won without even competing in the game?  
  


He lays here beside me. We sleep together at night, and we wake up together in the same bed. When we first lay down, we become attached to each other. When we wake up, we are always just as animalistic with our sex. But everything in between is lost, empty spaces usually filled with the normality of romance. We are not a couple of tradition.   
  


We sleep on different sides of the bed. The sheets aren't nearly as comforting as I imagine his arms to be. His embrace is cold, but somehow my side of the mattress is a desolation I wade in by myself. It is lonely to be on my own, but somehow I feel twice as empty when he is right by my side.   
  
  
  


_[Your absence resounds_   
_like a siren, but my presence_   
_brings no more than silence]_   
  
  
  


I rolled out of bed, and he did not move a muscle. I placed my hand on his chest, and he did not bat an eye. But as soon as I walked to the kitchen to fire up the coffee machine, he was wide awake. Was I nothing more than a toy to him?  
  


Gray soon stumbled out of bed as well. Both of us half naked, clothed in undergarments and swaddled lazily in blankets from the nest we slept in. He had the nerve to smile at me as he strolled to the kitchen; his obsidian eyes resembled a deep shade of morning lust.   
  


He was using me, but I could only smile and go along with his play.  
  
  
  


_[I don't know where I've_   
_been, and it's been such a_   
_long time since I really saw_   
_the difference between you_   
_and I...]_   
  
  
  


Gray, if I am a puppet, I will let you play my strings. Tell me what to do, and I will make sure it is done without the hint of a complaint. I will be at your call, a messenger for your errands, a saviour for your pains.   
  


That could be why he fell for her instead. Like me, she knew no limits, yet she sailed past her obstacles like a ship cutting through the river a glacier left in its wake. She was so strong, she was so confident.  
  


She was like me in so many ways, except in the way that she did not love him like I did. That is where Gray and I are too much alike; we want what we can't have.    
  
  
  


_[You know he betrays you,_   
_as much as he saves you]_   
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	2. ii. gray

I felt her get out of bed this morning. She took the sheet with her--after all these nights spent together, clothing was overrated. We had lost the appeal of the mystery of what is beneath.   
  


She came around the bed and placed her hand on my chest. Her skin was always so warm, a comfort I did not deserve. The softness pulsed so intensely that I swore I could feel every single vein beneath her flesh. She pulled away too soon.  
  


I smelled coffee. She burned it; Juvia always burned the coffee. I never had the courage to tell her. I think she would go through an entire jar of grounds trying to make a cup I actually liked. Juvia never gave up.   
  
  
  


_[I'll never be more_   
_than a wolf at your_   
_door for dinner]_   
  
  
  


Eventually, it came to the point where I could no longer lay there and pretend I was asleep, praying that unconsciousness would fall over me again. Waking up proved so difficult.   
  


Her smile towards me in the morning was just as warm as the steaming mug of coffee on the counter. She handed me one of the ceramics, and my hand placed over hers as I grabbed it from her. A part of me wanted to stay there, to keep our contact as if this was a romantic film, but I couldn't help it. _I drew away._  
  


Juvia, how can you keep smiling at me like that? _Fuck_ , it is beautiful--I do not like it. You never met Lucy, but I was aware that you knew of her. How could one person be satisfied with nothing but touch? I had no idea how you were so loyal to me; you were invested in a man who was never really here.   
  


"I have work to do today, I should get going." I told her. As soon as I could, I turned my back to her; sometimes those expressions she wore were too sad; even when she smiled, I think she was drowning a little.   
  


I heard her shuffling her feet behind me as I drew on my clothes, littered haphazardly over the floor. Juvia cleared her throat. "Does Gray-sama want breakfast?"  
  


 _Fuck_ , why did she care so much? I shook my head. "No, that's--" I paused a moment as I looked around the room for my belt. Juvia noticed my confusion and pointed to it hanging over the armchair. "--that's alright. I'm going out for breakfast anyway."  
  


Juvia was so quiet after that, I had to look over my shoulder to see if she was still there. She was not, at least not entirely. "By yourself?"  
  


My throat tightened. The coffee inside my body began to creep up, but I forced it back down as I shook my head. "I'm meeting someone."  
  


I could not stand to lie, but I knew I would. I did not need to; Juvia knew of the other woman, yet she stayed. The silence meant she would rather me be alone than with another person, though. I was not sure whether it made my chest ache with bitterness or consolation.   
  
  
  


_[I need you to see_   
_There's not much innocence_   
_In the imposed darkness_   
_Of imposed silence]_   
  
  
  


"I'll see you tonight?" Juvia asked. Her fist was bunched up around the sheets at her chest to assure they stayed up over her body. I could imagine the way her naked silhouette looked beneath it, and it almost made me regret leaving without ravishing her. It would have to wait until tonight's meet-up.   
  


I nodded. "You needed to ask?" My chuckles made her face red.   
  


I grabbed my coat and tucked it under my arm as I walked to her. My body leaned into hers, my lips pressing against the temple beside her right eye before I left. Juvia was as a statue as I kissed her goodbye.   
  


My coffee was still steaming as I left.   
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  


I did not mind leaving the coffee with her. I just bought another one at breakfast. Though I did not have to; when I arrived at that joint down town to meet her, she already ordered me one.   
  


I spotted her as soon as I walked through the front doors of the restaurant. I stood there for a few seconds, staring at her in the booth alone, before she eventually caught me from the corner of her eye. Her chocolate brown eyes turned to the color of puddles of syrup as she smiled and waved me over.   
  


"I ordered you a coffee." The blonde's lips turned upward into a gracious grin of affection as she slid it across the table towards me.   
  


The steam rose up from the surface. The color of the coffee matched the blonde's eyes in certain lights. I brought it to my lips, blew the steam away, and let it slip down my throat.   
  


The coffee was not burnt.   
  
  
  


_[Though, I've said the worse_   
_things, & I can't reverse things]_   
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	3. iii. lucy

I do not think Gray liked coffee. Whenever we met up for food at that same place--our favorite place downtown--he always made a face when I ordered him a cup. I thought they had the best coffee.   
  


Gray and I had claimed a booth for our own by the window. There were plenty of people to watch outside, as well as the entire restaurant on the inside. Sometimes when conversation grew boring, those rare occasions, we would turn to the people around us and just watch.  
  


He and I developed a fascination for people watching. Gray was not very sociable, that much was clear, but it was strange how much went through his head when he was so quiet.  
  
  
  


_[ I need you like_   
_I need a headache,_   
_I need you like I_   
_need my mistakes]_   
  
  
  


When we were eating, sneaking food off each other's plates and pouring small bits of salt into the other's drinks to see how long it took them to notice, we would often come up with backstories to the people around us. Gray always justified that it would help me think of ideas for my novels.  
  


"What about her?" I pointed to a lady sitting along, a small child in a carrier on the booth next to her. Seeing the bench across from the woman empty was a bit sad, but maybe she wanted to be alone. Some people needed to be alone just as much as they needed to be in the arms of others.  
  


Gray's royal eyes narrowed pensively, his gaze suggesting he was taking a test, not coming up with a silly story. "Her wife is out of town on business, and she's secretly happy to be alone so she can finally have a mimosa as breakfast and not be judged."  
  


I couldn't help but laugh slightly, my fingers drumming on the table. "Wife?" I asked suggestively.  
  


The dark haired man shrugged his narrow shoulders casually. "I'm creative."  
  


That was an understatement for Gray; his mind was incredibly wild, impatient and untamed. At the time, I would have hated to see how imaginative he was as a little child--he must have been a handful to his parents. Looking back, it just seems utterly shallow.   
  


You lacked depth, Gray. You were like an artist in a room full of supplies, yet told you could not paint; you were full of so much potential, I could see it, but you were too afraid to show yourself. Even to me. Even to her--the other woman, the one you ran to at night. I never met her, but I longed to know who she was.   
  
  
  


_[I need you to see the_   
_good in everything, for_   
_the only thing that saves_   
_you is your economy of_   
_blessings]_   
  
  
  


"Alright," Gray pointed a hand discretely to a man in a business suit in the middle of the room just as a woman came back to his table from the bathroom. "What about them?"  
  


My elbow on the table, my head in my hand, I bet I looked so casual to him then. "He's married, but he comes to town on occasion for business. He gets lonely, and he needs company with that woman, his secretary." I wrapped my lips around the straw of my drink. "No sex, though."  
  


I would have nearly gagged from the amount of salt Gray slipped in my water and applauded him for winning our makeshift game, but his expressions caught me off guard. Our game of backstories and lifelines had his skin so pale he looked transparent.  
  


I must have been the transparent one, then, for it was so obvious. His face told it all--his physical ties to her, the emotional bonds between he and I. I was his secretary; the sexless mistress, an emotional cheat. Even after figuring this out, I let it continue. I was no better than him.  
  


My coughing from the salted water finally grabbed his attention again, and Gray handed me a napkin. The color returned to his cheeks, though his face was hidden under a veil of hair. "I won." His teasing voice chuckled.  
  


He won. _Fuck_ , he won everything.  
  
  
  


_[I need you like I_   
_need a downpour,_   
_I don't need you but I_   
_need you so much more]_   
  
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	4. iv. juvia

_[Love me and keep me_   
_happy with empty space._   
_Memories of winter fill_   
_your place]_   
  
  
  


Gray and I met rather recently. But it felt like we have known each other for years. Or was it the other way around--childhood friends like strangers? I could hardly remember, honestly. Everything with Gray had become a haze. The picture book I colored in had gone outside the lines.  
  


Though no matter what, I could remember when we met. There were tons of people there; a festival during the winter. It was hard for me to overlook the only man wearing jeans and a tank top during a snowstorm.   
  


I could hardly believe myself when I asked him if he wanted my jacket. From those words, I was unaware who became more embarrassed. It was too late, for they already spewed out of my mouth. He seemed grouchy, but at least he could muster up enough humor to say, "Trust me, you need it more."  
  


After that, we did not talk much. It was mostly us walking around the festival together, occasionally grabbing clumps of snow from the rails or the ground and trying to turn it into shapes. Gray always won that game, a sculptor of crystalized water.   
  


Sometimes I hated that we shared so little words that night. Maybe an exchange of names and small talk was all that our voices exhaled into the cold of night. After that, we did not speak. We just held each other at night as if we were each other's only source of heat, and the deeper the sex, the less chance we had of getting sick from the cold.  
  


I got that wrong. The sickness only came when he grew so close.   
  
  
  


_[Seems like dreams are_   
_hard to see through. I_   
_saw the best in you]_   
  
  
  


That was the first time I met Gray--a few snow building contests and a one night stand. There were no regrets; he was some ice angel I only saw during the winter, for I went all summer without hearing or speaking to him, until we met again at the same festival next year.  
  


That is how we got here. We met for the second time two months ago. It was the same ordeal, with the balls of snow shaped as animals and the small talk neither of us cared for and, at last, the night in bed.  
  


Gray was a creature sculpted from ice. The snow was starting to melt on the ground, and I felt so selfish for not wanting him to leave. Even after only a few weeks of knowing him, my heart had grown fond, tainted by his frostbite.   
  


Spring was close. Spring was the time when Gray would slowly pull back, leaving my home each morning after to meet her for some other known ordeal. I was his autumn, and she was his spring; was she going to finish what I started with him?  
  


There was only a bit of frost on the grass. Spring was coming close to take my winter away.  
  
  
  


_[You haunt me, ghost,_   
_you are the one that I_   
_love most, & it's hard to _   
_care when you were_   
_never really there]_   
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	5. v. gray

Lucy always wanted to go to the ocean. I never agreed, though; the water, so strong it could carry me away in a heartbeat, always reminded me of Juvia instead. I would feel guilty going with Lucy there.  
  


Instead, we would opt for for walking around town. I would fear that Lucy would grow tired with us only talking--that is all we have ever done, nothing even slightly physical--but she was always up for good conversation.  
  


The only thing was, I was awful as conversation. Whether it was with Lucy or with another, I just sat there like an idiot. Apparently Juvia was not good at it either; however she saw no problem with that.  
  


She had this smile, though, and this air to the way she walked that made it impossible to look away. I could not care less if we never talked because just staring at her was good enough.   
  


"Gray?"  
  


I turned my head towards Lucy as she pulled me out of my trance. I had drifted off and been staring at a tree instead. My mind related Juvia to a tree. How settling.  
  
  
  


_[I'm hoping you'll see_   
_the distance in me, here_   
_faced with the ice]_   
  
  
  


Juvia was a free spirit and possession looked so bad on her, so why she wanted to be mine, I will never know. It was easy to drown out the delusion of her when Lucy talked.   
  


Lucy and I talked for hours. She had no work hours as a freelance writer, so she was always there at my call, just like Juvia. With the way we did nothing but talk, it was almost like a therapy session more than anything.  
  


You're an ocean, Juvia; you need to churn. What kind of idiot would try to freeze the ocean, the make the most free thing on the planet come to a halt? How stupid an idea for me to think I could control the sea.  
  
  
  


_[I'm the cold of the sky,_   
_freezing its way through_   
_the heart of the day]_   
  
  
  


I will play Juvia like a puppet if she wants me too. I will tangle the strings until she is bound to me. I could take all her freedom and she would be so happy with me.  
  


I will pretend this vodka is you and your ocean and drown in it.  
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	6. vi. lucy

There were many things Gray claimed to hate, but I did not buy any of them. His voice said one thing, but I found a childish hope in his eyes at something so simple as the snowfall that proved otherwise.   
  


"Lucy," Gray and I walked along the sidewalk one our way home, warm cups of innocent hot chocolate in our grasp, "do you write about people you know?"  
  


His question took me aback slightly, but it was one I was waiting to answer without even knowing. "In a way. My characters are from everyone I know, or even myself."   
  


Gray seemed amused by that. "So somewhere in those words I watch you write, there's someone who reminds yourself of me?" He asked. His lips were pulled into a coy grin, an infamous one.  
  
  
  


_[ When the fears that_   
_disturb me set their_   
_place, you are my only_   
_grace ]_   
  
  
  


With a nod of my head I confirmed it. Gray had watched me write plenty of times; he and I sitting in the comfort of my apartment, I would just write and he would just watch, like an editor working overtime. I enjoyed it--it was much less nerve racking than having him read when I wad finished. Gray had a fondness to him in the fact that he and I shared such an unspoken connection.   
  


"There's a character like you," I said. I let the steam rise up from my cup and warm my cold cheeks. _And there is a character like her, but in my world, you never see her_. "Every writer created a bit of themselves in their art."  
  


Gray smiled broadly at that. "Maybe I should read everything you've made again. I'll try and see who you made me." His onyx eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Make sure you captured my likeness perfectly."  
  


At that, I let out a soft snort. "The likeness of you? It's not hard, I just make you a grumpy old man most the time." After I said that, Gray scoffed and nudged my hip with his.   
  


Regaining my balance and my breath after a fit of giggles, I looked up at him. Gray had an air to him that was very striking. He was--in many ways--the perfect inspiration to write. A man of superior breed, strong in demeanor and cold in desire, a young spark still lost in his eyes: that was my inspiration.  
  
  
  


_[ I see him on the mist_   
_of the River Styx, sailing_   
_to your side; I see him_   
_through your eyes ]_   
  
  
  


At times I doubted the fact Gray actually cared about my stories. Someone as lost as him only wanted a place to belong, even if that place in a page between my fingertips. He wanted me to capture him in ink forever, so he may fade but never leave.   
  


Gray's fingers slid through mine, our palms clasped together as we held onto each other's hands. With the snow and warm drinks and the shy glances stolen from one another, we seemed like such a young love. I wondered what his lips tasted like, if they felt as good as his thumb brushing over my knuckles.   
  


Gray held onto to me, temporarily, and I could not blame him for wanting to leave a legacy, his story one written between the lines I had wrote with my own hand. I would grant him eternity in a second.  
  
  
  


_[ I'll send a storm_   
_to capture your heart_   
_and bring you home ]_   
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	7. vii. juvia

Gray and I had never been on a date. The closest we came to such a thing was homemade dinner at my place. Sometimes I wondered if Gray never took me out on purpose, as if it would make us more official.  
  


There were candles--that was all he could muster, how romantic. For him, a wine of glass truly was him trying. He was so simple and shut in, the oddest of things were the biggest of confessions.  
  
  
  


_[ It's too much like_   
_heaven to tell apart._   
_The light falls on your_   
_face across the dark ]_   
  
  
  


We sat on adjacent sides of the table as if we could not separate. I wondered if his idea of it was as affectionate as mine, or he if he was just used to playing games like that. Either way, I did not mind.   
  


The longer we sat over a silent dinner, the more I wondered who was more pathetic: him, who ran away to be with the stars after he gained his fill of me, or myself, who came back every time he did so. While my body yearned for him, my mind was regressing to a time before a him.  
  


Conversation was always the same. It began with small talk, asking how each other's day had gone, before we became less interested. All I cared for was to see the face Gray made when I noticed he wanted to say something but could not. His vocal cords clipped like a sick dog, Gray would teeter on the edge of confession and privacy.  
  


Raising a glass filled with opaque red wine, Gray held his up as a cheers to me. I was surprised to see either of us sober enough still. When normally we were trashed with alcohol and trashing each other, we sat like civilized people. Like a couple.   
  
  
  


_[ Will you comfort me?_   
_'Cause my hands are open._   
_Will you comfort me like_   
_someone you've chosen? ]_   
  
  
  


"To us, for being who we are when no one else is." Gray had said. His arm still outstretched to mine, I eventually lifted my glass and tapped it against his.  
  


Just like that, the wine slid down our throats with ease. We poured another glass, but that was gone in another unsteady heartbeat.  
  


I hated Gray's toast. Being who we were got us this far, and for what? For lousy nights alone and empty beds to wake up to? To carpet stains from spilled liquor we were too busy to clean up the night before? To a relationship tainted by the fear of commitment?   
  


Those were true, but I was an optimist. We were who we were: for a bond of bodies who knew each other's needs, for hearts that seemed to match beats when we entered the same room, for skin that ridged with goosebumps at the mention of another's name.  
  
  
  


_[ Holding you close feels_   
_like a cut-throat: losing_   
_blood, the weakness of_   
_falling in love ]_   
  
  
  


Whether or not he liked to admit it, Gray and I were together, in more than just the physical sense. He had me in his thoughts and he in mine, and each time our skin moved over one another's, the bond inside our veins grew thicker.   
  


As much as I wanted to brag of this, she was in his mind too. All I could do was pray to a moon that never answered my calls and ask it to give me just one more night.  
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	8. viii. lucy

Moons have phases. The moon Gray and I share each night does not change its shape, but with every passing hour it takes upon a new form, cloaked with shadows that alter out perceptions. We name them waxing and waning, rich terms for coming and going. Among those two is the fullest moon as well, when the moon is at its brightest.  
  


The full moon is said to be one of love. It is the best for spiritual connections. I really never cared to believe in it, but I found it fascinating: believing that your day would change all because of how the moon presents itself to you.  
  


While the full moon shows love between us, the physical bond of bodies intertwining, that never mattered to Gray. He never touched me more deeply than simple grazes. I imagined he would be with her on the full moon, indulging in something he was too scared to take from me.   
  
  
  


_[Seems like I'm just_   
_wasting my time._   
_Where should I_   
_draw the line?]_   
  
  
  


Instead, he is with me when there is no moon. The last phase, when things are dark and it is time for rebirth: renewal. Gray comes to me when he can no longer handle being on his own; he confides in me, and I am his new moon. We talk for as long as the moon as in the sky until it turns upside down.   
  
  


My legs stretched out beneath my work desk to relieve themselves of the cramp that came with non-stop writing, writing about a creature just as magical as Gray. Before my desk was a window, a glass barrier between me and the night. Standing up, I leaned forward and opened up the window on my desk. As it grew darker outside, the wind grew colder. I often became cold easily, but the chill was refreshing.   
  


The sky seemed to glow the color of lilac and charcoal blended together. Only a handful of stars decided to show themselves tonight. Where was the moon?  
  
  
  


_[Don't share the past, if_   
_you won't share your_   
_heart. All that we share_   
_is the view of these stars]_   
  
  
  


Crawling over my desk, I sat with one leg dangling out the window and the other safely rested on my tabletop. My head laid back against the window frame, eyes scanning the atmosphere above me.  
  


That was when I spotted the moon; an orb of silver among a sea of black, outshining the city lights and the fellow stars. Only a sliver of her right was shaded in a veil of black, making her shape to be one not in my favor.  
  


The moon is bright, and you will go to her Gray, and for just one night you'll find peace in someone else's skin. I know in the morning you will wake up a mess.  
  


I do not know why, but you will. There is something inside of you that is afraid. You talk to me on nights like these for hours, yet it never comes up. You are too smart to let it slide by.  
  
  
  


_[And I'll be in the_   
_back of your mind,_   
_waiting for you...]_   
  
  
  


I know of her, and she knows of me. For now, Gray, you have both of us, but we will not be there for long.   
  


This is our moon scene: our cycle of ever-changing affection and our repetition of insanity.  
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	9. ix. gray

Like the shadow on the moon, I keep changing sides. I always knew I will regret this when I am older, so why I did not stop until know only confirmed my insanity.   
  


My mind was unstable, but it had always been this way. My skull was the universe, my mind the earth filled with nonstop quakes. Of course that analogy was not mine--it was Lucy's, her words filled with a passion I never deserved but a love we both believed.  
  
  
  


_[When there's nothing_   
_but dark and sound,_   
_I will be beside you]_   
  
  
  


It began to hurt. My body would ache every morning when I left Juvia's bed, like we were two opposite poles of a magnet struggling to clasp together again. We were certainly not equal, for Juvia had the resolve to stay around much longer than I. Here I thought I had a right to her body, but it was a privilege I had never really gained in the first place.  
  


I was rarely at my own home, but days like this had me sick in bed and staring at the ceiling. I was not physically sick, but my mind and heart alike played so many tricks that it often felt like I was. My heart was aching to feel again, but I kept it caged.   
  
  
  


_[When your fears are a_   
_swarm in the hive of_   
_your mind, I will be_   
_beside you]_   
  
  
  


Lucy would have come up with some fantastic words right now, relating me to the stars in some way and making up her own constellation that spelled my name all because that was the kind of selfless person she was. She would build a galaxy and hand them over to someone as easily as she could blink her brown eyes. I knew that was the only reason she put up with me.  
  


I asked myself how I could ever actually have the hearts of two women, when in fact they were never really mine. For some reason they wanted to be, yet I refused. It took me years to realize how stupid I was--so long I imagined Lucy's stars burning, dying, and being born all over again--but eventually I did.  
  


I still felt sick, but I managed to roll out of bed. My limbs fell into clothing as I attempted to dress myself in a suitable manor; she deserved me to look good for her. She deserved the world.   
  
  
  


_[When there's nothing_   
_but the long way 'round,_   
_I will be beside you]_   
  
  
  


I had forgotten my keys, but I did not care. I already hailed a cab and directed them to her address. If I needed, I would wait until the sun rose the next morning to call a locksmith, but a part of me hoped I would never need to go back; I hoped I would find a new home in her heart.   
  


The cab stopped in front of her building, and the place seemed to growl at me with such a harshness I could only grit my teeth. Even inanimate objects were scolding me. What was next, the stars getting on my bad side?  
  


Throwing the cab driver a handful of cash, I booked it out of the taxi. I didn't care to hear him hollering behind me about overpaying him. It was the first step to kindness I needed to take, all for her sake of me becoming a better person. I would give away every cent I made for the rest of my life if it meant showing her how much I could change.  
  


My footsteps echoed as I ran up there, eagerly pressing the buzzer for her to let me in to her building. When she didn't answer, I pressed all of them, and eventually on person was careless enough to let me in. I would have to thank them later.   
  
  
  


_[When the tears of your_   
_love and your loss are_   
_entwined, I will be_   
_beside you]_   
  
  
  


My legs burned by the time I made it upstairs to her apartment. I imagined her there inside, standing behind the door and watching me through the looking glass with that look on her face, that daring one she gave me so often.  
  


My knuckled rapped against her door frantically. I didn't stop until I heard movement on the other side. Slowly, impatiently on my part, the lock on the door slid away, and she opened up to me like I never thought but always hoped she would do.  
  


Only three words came to my mind, three lousy words that were the world's biggest form of inadequacy. It was simple, and I prayed that she and all her raw desire would accept it as my first form of repayment to her putting up with me. Three lousy words I hoped to say to her for the rest of my life.  
  


"I love you."  
  
  
  


✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵  
  
  
  


_ E. Koroleva © 2016 _   
_a short fairy tail fan-_   
_fic to explain the laws_   
_of physical love._   
_xx_

 


	10. x. prishai

This is the moon scene; a theatre play, each act is a chapter of their life, the dry patches only interludes, the stars above their audience. These are conflicts of love, Gray lost in the space between emotional embrace and physical play.   
  
  


Where their story goes on, there is no definitive ending. It is up to the stars above, this moon scene's audience, to choose a side, a side of either sensual affection of two humans embracing one another's bodies or the wordless intimacy of two creatures bound by emotional hedonism.   
  
  


These cycles never end, a repetition bound on behalf of fate. This is the moon scene; which scene is yours?  
  
  
  
  
  


_[it is a cruel dream]_   
  
  
  
  
  


**end.**  
✵  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 _[_ prishai: _a russian word_  
 _for 'goodbye,' typically_  
 _only used upon the end of_  
 _a relationship when you_  
 _no longer will see each_  
 _other ever again ]_

 


End file.
